


Egmont, Op.84 Overature in F Minor

by indefensibleselfindulgence



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Behavior, Crushes, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, M/M, Usual Jonah Bullshit, implied infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 14:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21393433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indefensibleselfindulgence/pseuds/indefensibleselfindulgence
Summary: Jonah Magnus commissions his panopticon and Robert is more than happy to see it done.
Relationships: Jonah Magnus/Robert Smirke
Comments: 21
Kudos: 97





	Egmont, Op.84 Overature in F Minor

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in four hours like a man possessed 
> 
> named[ after this thing ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sp0_x5Ez-pM)

“Build me my panopticon, and I'll give you everything you want.” 

“Everything?” Robert watches the man sitting across from him. Even in the dim lighting, the low glow of the gas lamps in this quaint little establishment, Jonah Magnus manages to stand out brighter than any other living thing. “A high offer, certainly.” 

“It would be so good for me.” Jonah sits upright, always proper, always delicate, immaculate, with his long sleeves and high collar. Every slip of skin felt like a treat he wasn't meant to be having. “So unbelievably good, my good sir. And the joy must spread, mustn't it? Workers? Sums? Simply ask and you'll receive it.” 

His eyes- his eyes are so horrifically captivating. He feels drawn in, every single time. They're not even that vibrant, it would seem. The color on anyone else felt like nothing at all, but on Jonah- Robert finds him drawing them in the margins of his drafts more often than one would think. He finds himself frequently drawing all of Jonah, with his dark hair and his dark clothes and his captivating gorgeous eyes. 

“Ah, well.” He smiles and catches Jonah's own grin for but a moment. “I wasn't aware that you were attached to the project.” 

“I wasn't until recently. A sudden rather sharp change in management, as it were. But I've little interest in perusing the venture if your name is not attached.” 

The food here is barely passable, and he hardly blames Jonah for not eating any of his. The ale is excusable, but they're both clearly gentlemen of standing, and if Jonah will not imbibe then neither shall he. 

“Dare I ask if you are a fan?” 

“Ask away.” Robert laughs, lifting a hand to his mouth. 

“You're much too funny, Jonah. Much to funny.” His lips quirk up again, and that is simply a delight. “Yes, of course I'll take the work. Am I a fool to say no such a phenomenally lucrative offer?” 

“Wonderful.” Jonah slides contract papers across the grimy table and Robert has to wonder why on earth someone as high standing as Jonah would ever invite someone to such a hole in the wall. Mayhap out of consideration? His estate was not too far, and certainly more sparing then a quick jaunt to Germany, or where ever it was that he was staying. 

“I'll have the designs over as soon as Monday. Wednesday at the latest.” Jonah's beautiful eyes grow wide for a moment. 

“So soon?” He clears his throat. “I appreciate it of course, more then anything but, you needn't rush for my sake.” 

“Oh, I've been toying with ideas for some time now. And that aside.” He does call a waiter over to inquire of the whiskey offerings. Certainly Jonah would understand the need to celebrate. “I find myself rather inspired as of late.” 

If he was more artistically inclined, he would rush to his estate for his canvas, while the image of Jonah Magnus smiling so brightly at him was still fresh in his mind. 

…

They are in the onsite office, discussing materials when Robert sees Jonah pass down the hall. 

“Ah, my good sir-” He nudges past his assistants and rushes to the hallway. “Pray, have you lost your way?” 

Jonah turns from where he stands, a particularly dark navy riding coat on his slim waist, tucked into perhaps the whitest pair of trousers he's ever seen outside of a shop. 

“No, no not at all.” He laughs at that, as if that's somehow the best joke he's heard in a few days. “Just-” He makes a hand gesture. “Taking it all in.” 

“My office is-” Robert glances through the glass, at his two assistants still pouring over measurements. “I'm occupied with rather dull business at the moment, but if you've need of me I can make time.” 

“Ah, I see.” Jonah crosses his arms and takes a moment to think. “I'm quiet alright actually, just checking in.” To say that Robert feels crest fallen is an understatement. “However, as I am here, I might as well ask now. I've been invited to a party this coming Friday, by the Lukas'. If you are not dreadfully busy, would you find the time to accompany me?” 

Ah- 

As in- 

“Forgive me, I've not met them-” He's heard of them certainly. Most people have in their circles. But most people have not had any personal acquaintance. He honestly doesn't know why he's surprised by Jonah anymore. Every day the man finds new ways to fascinate him. 

“They're rather reclusive.” He laughs to himself again. “Mordechai is friendly enough when you can draw him away from his studies. You will come won't you?” 

“Ah- Yes, yes of course.” He had nothing to wear to meet someone like the Lukas' but that is rectifiable. A quick trip to the estate would rectify that hopefully. Laura would understand, these were the Lukas' they were talking about, after all. “Should I bring something along?” 

“A jovial mood.” Jonah smiles. “Though, if you've in possession of a good cherry, I don't imagine it will be turned down either.” 

The image flashes in his mind but for an instant but Robert can not help but linger on it. The two of them, close friends, confidants, sitting on a balcony in the late hours, two glasses between them. Robert can see the pale skin of his wrist, can feel the hot breath of Jonah's whispers on his ear. The two of them so close, and then Robert, turning to gaze into those eyes, like a man possessed he grips Jonah's chin and tugs him into a kiss. 

“Of course.” It comes out barely more then a mumble. Bottle of cherry. A cheerful disposition. His mind lingers on the kiss, even when the rest of him reals, begging composer in front of the man, in front of his friend! 

Jonah places a hand on Robert's shoulder, searing somehow, even through the layers of his waistcoat. 

“Friday.” 

“Friday.” 

He remains locked in the spot, nigh breathless until he could no longer hear Jonah's heals down the hallway. And then he did what any sensible gentleman would do in his circumstance, and rushed to his desk chair before he could faint on the floor. 

…

The party was a rather raucous affair. 

A most peculiar gentleman, much to lively for a man his age, had challenged the two of them, Robert and Jonah, to a game of darts almost as soon as they arrived which he won instantly, bullseye on every shot. Jonah had stood by and watched with amusement as Robert missed all but one, but the man, Fairchild, clapped him on the shoulder. 

“You shouldn't play against him for money.” Jonah told him later, when the dancing had begun and both of them with out a partner, stood to the side. “He'll clean up every time.” 

“Friend of yours?” 

“Mm.” Jonah nods. “Old acquaintance.” 

“And has he always been so-” 

“Full of vigor?” Robert laughs. “I can't attest to the man's youth but for all I've known him he's been much the same. Wonderful artist.” 

“_Artist_?” Of all the things he could have imagined, it certainly wasn't something so... sedentary that he would place on the man. 

“Recently, he's been rather fascinated by trains.” 

Trains... 

“And how is it that you've come to know him?” 

“Similar work, I suppose you could say.” 

“Gossiping?” Robert jumps, not his finest moment. The man stands behind him almost as if he'd appeared out of thin air. “Is this him them? Your brilliant architect?” 

Jonah had called him brilliant? 

“Robert, this is Mordechai.” 

“Ah, our host.” He holds his arm out and after a rather long moment, Mordechai shakes it. A peculiar man as well, but so different from Fairchild. Solidly built and rather imposing, hair already graying even as he seemed rather young. “A pleasure, Mr Lukas.” 

Jonah, though, looking rather pleased with himself, called him brilliant? 

Him? 

“So well behaved.” 

“Oh, Mordechai please. Not so early into the night.” Jonah looked embarrassed for some reason, a lovely look, a most lovely look. The thought of seeing just how deep that blush might travel left Robert breathless again. Where on earth was this coming from- Laura, Laura would certainly have quiet a few words to day, her father even more so. Lord, pray no one finds of these thoughts-

Pray Jonah never finds these thoughts of his, that they never spill out anywhere near the poor man. 

Does his entire chest bloom in that exquisite red- 

“Pardon me.” He bows briefly and turns away from the two friends. “My glass is almost empty.” 

“Your glass- have of mine then, I'm not drinking tonight.” Jonah's voice does sound some distance away. 

The taste of cherry on Jonah's lips, the taste of his tongue under the moonlight- 

“I insist. And surely the two of you have some catching up to do, yes-” And as he rushes across the dance floor, he must imagine Mordechai echoing Jonah's earlier sentiment of how early it truly was. 

The dance floor is lively, beautiful people twisting and turning in hypnotizing patterns. It's easy to become distracted from his goal of trying to find an servant, or mayhap a balcony to clear his mind. 

Jonah on a chaise lounge, shirt unbuttoned and a blush that reaches low on his chest, the moonlight bathing him in an utterly divine radiance, hair splayed out, hands reaching up for Robert's face, to run a thumb along his lip and beg for more affection. For Robert's hands on his, running over the smooth planes of his body. For Robert's fingers to do the work of getting him out of those trousers and to put Robert's mouth to much better use then just gasping for air and whispering of Jonah's beauty. For more and more, for Robert to take him there and then, on a balcony adjacent to a crowded party and damned be who sees, for Robert to- 

So mayhap not the balcony then. 

“Are you alright, lad?” Ah, Fairchild again. How do people keep sneaking up on him? “Looking rather peaky there.” 

“I'm quiet alright, just-” 

“Catching your breath?” There's a grin on the man's face Robert doesn't appreciate all that much. 

“Something like that.” Robert runs a hand down his front. “I don't suppose you've seen a servant- I've been searching-” 

“So have they I imagine.” 

Of all things, he doesn't find himself all that surprised at the riddles. They seem to be expected, for the evening he finds himself having.

“Ah, Jonah- Mr Magnus said you were a painter.” Anything to make small talk, anything to bring some shred of normalcy back to him. To erase even half of his brazenness. 

“Mmhm.” He points up and Robert humors him. 

The ceiling is a thing of spectacle, an endless sky so realistic he swears he sees the clouds drifting betwixt the chandelier. 

“It's-” He finds himself at a loss for words. How could he have not even noticed, how could anyone hide a masterpiece such as this on a ceiling of all places? It's so easy to get lost in as well, an endless blue as real as the one outside- it's almost as if day time itself has been captured, tamed, and splashed over the ceiling. 

“Breathtaking?” Jonah's voice rings out like a shot. 

“Flatterer.” Fairchild laughs, slapping a hand on Jonah's back who just smiles back good naturedly. “It wasn't a gift for you.” 

“That would be my honor, wouldn't it.” Mordechai laughs, here now too. 

They're old friends, the three of them, clearly, why in the Lord's name would Jonah bring him along. 

“But if you would like one, I'm sure I could break out the brushes again.” 

“Mayhap another time, Simon.” Jonah had smiled, smiled, smiled again. 

That damn beautiful smile. 

Worse still, his eyes. 

Robert felt so exceptionally small under those eyes. 

“Pardon me, gentlemen.” Again, barely more then a mumble. “I- My wife is expecting me.” 

“So soon?” Mordechai asks, a hand on Jonah's shoulder.

“I was potentially a little unclear on the events of the night.” He clears his throats. “I would hate to have her worry over a miscommunication.” 

“Of course.” Jonah steps away from the other two men. “Allow me to walk you out?” 

Say no. 

Say no. 

Pray, Lord, the will to say one simple word. 

“Certainly.” 

Not _that_ simple word. 

…

He dreams of him now. 

Well. 

He dreams of the two of them, under an endless sky. The two of them in isolation, in tall grass, the only two left alive. Clouds rush overhead only to twist and turn into stars shining brightly and brilliantly. He dreams of Jonah whispering secrets that he can never remember when the morning comes. 

Of Jonah's eyes on him, hungry. 

Watching endlessly, almost never blinking as if he wants to drink all of Robert dry.

He wakes to an empty bed, and a quick run of his hand to his waist assures him that is a good thing. Bless Laura for being dutiful, for not asking him of his most absurd moods of late. 

Jonah invites him out to have tea, and again, no does not come to him. 

He wants to see him, is the worst of it. Mayhap not the worst, but it does feel to some degree unnatural. The pull between them. 

“Robert.” Jonah stands from his seat, brushing his lap. “How pleased I am to see you again. Your wife was alright, yes?” 

“My wife?” He sits across from him and gives his order to a waiter already at his side. 

“The miscommunication?” 

“The miscommu- oh, Oh, yes of course. She's very understanding, my Laura.” He smiles in way he hopes is convincing and not sickly or weak. Jonah smiles back, reaching forward to take Robert's hand in his. 

He can see the pale skin of his wrist. 

Jonah doesn't have a wife, some traitorous part of his brain supplies. Jonah has been a bachelor for a long time now. He lives alone, as far as Robert knows. No relatives to speak of, no servants. He travels between London and some tiny village in Germany frequently enough, but when Robert asked him about it months ago, Jonah had made clear it was of a visit of a friendly nature. 

He can still see Jonah's wrist. 

His face feels warm. 

“How is the jail progressing?” 

“The-” 

Of course this a business meeting, yes, of course. Excellent. Wonderful. He could speak on the finer points of concrete and structural support and subtle design elements for hours on end, and threse no way his mind will drift off to any untoward places. 

A thousand blessings on his chosen profession. 

A thousand at least. 

They spend the better part of the day discussing logistics, and that's fine. What isn't fine, what most assuredly will send him down yet another spiral of confusion, is that, despite what Robert initially thought, that Jonah was just attached to the project for the sake of investiture, Jonah. Jonah seemed. Interested. 

And not only interested, but involved. Aware of terms, aware of expectations. So unlike the usual sponsors he spoke with, Jonah had opinions he wanted to contribute. At some point he asked the staff to bring him a paper and pencil and the man started drawing diagrams- the lines were straight! Straight!- at scale, with variation- one of them even explained how he had intended the lighting to work- and around the point when Jonah had mentioned wanting to bring in an electrician, Robert had to excuse himself to the wash room. 

He looked a mess, splashing water onto his face and getting half of it down his shirt.

This man was going to put him into an early grave. 

…

“Phenomenal!” 

Jonah walked along the center chamber, running his bare hands along the walls. 

“As we discussed.” Robert says. “To your specifications.” He looks so elated, Robert feels as if he might expire at any given moment. 

“This, truly, this is everything I had ever hoped for. And look, look how-” Jonah throws his arms out. “How monumental it all it! How-” He waves a hand in the air. “Truly, Robert. Truly, your finest work.” 

He climbs the stairs two at a go, in a rush to get to the observation deck and Robert does all he can to keep pace. 

“I didn't imagine it would please you quite this much.” Thought the praise is nothing if not appreciated. “It's just a jail.” 

“Just a- No-” Jonah stops on the stairs and grabs Robert's hand before tugging him the rest of the way. “Don't sell yourself so short, my good man, my best man.” He laughs. “You'll understand from up here, come, come, don't dawdle.” 

“I swear I'm not.” Jonah laughs again, echoing through the empty space. 

“It's not just a jail.” Jonah ushers him into the observation room. “This is-” He sighs and looks through the glass at all of the empty cells. “This is a seat of power.” 

“Peculiar way of thinking of it.” Robert gasps for breath. Quiet a few bit of stairs there. 

“But it is- this is going to change everything.” Jonah leans on one of the desks. “You could see everything they do, everything all at once, every movement, every whisper, practically every thought if you're attentive enough. At every moment, of every minute, of every day. Not a moment of peace, not a moment to yourself that isn't observed, that isn't cataloged. Nothing is secret, nothing is private, it's all for me-” Robert looks at him. 

Really looks at him. 

“For you?” 

“Speaking metaphorically. As a guard.” 

“Oh, of course.” 

“But truly, this is-” He jabs his finger into the desk he's sitting on. “This is going to- god, Robert.” He smiles, wide. Dangerous, he thinks, oddly sharp for a man as soft as Jonah. “I promised you everything you wanted, do you remember? When we started?” 

“Of course I do.” 

Of course he does. 

He has a feeling he couldn't forget even if he wanted to at this point. 

“So what will you have? How could I possibly repay you for all of this- this majesty you've granted me.” 

“You, the security guard.” 

“Oh, no. No, me. This is a masterclass of architecture. To think I could aid you in it. To think you built it for me?” He drags the word out, hand on his chest. “Either way. What of everything shall you be having, my good man?” 

“You.” He says. 

It was truly, truly just him trying to catch up to the conversation. At the pace that Jonah was going on, all of the praise he had been heaping, all fo the metaphors, Robert had truly gotten a little lost along the way. 

Jonah, though, for his part, as Robert's eyes go wide and he starts to mumble his way through a thousand apologizes, doesn't even look surprised. 

And then he's in Robert's space, staring for a moment, and then kissing him. 

Robert is certain he tastes the cherry. 

“Everything you want.” Jonah says, one hand already working the buttons on Robert's slacks. 

“What are you-” Jonah kisses him again, teeth along his lip that makes his head spin. 

“You think I don't notice how you stare sometimes?” Well he was really rather hoping Jonah hadn't. “Like I'm that damn ceiling in Lukas' manor? Like you want to fall into me and disappear?” 

“I'm sorry-” He begins- before there's a hand over his mouth- Jonah's soft hand. 

Touching his face. 

“Don't be. You think I don't want you to?” 

“You like being stared at?” 

Jonah laughs. 

“You're wonderful.” Jonah says and returns to the buttons. “Truly. After this-” He points between the two of them. “I'll teach you some secrets, hm?” 

“Secrets-” 

“About why I wanted you so desperately-” He drops his knees and before Robert even has the sense to fully realize what is about to happen, Jonah has his hand around his cock, giving him a few strokes before opening his mouth licking at the head. “To build this prison for me.” 

“Jonah-” Robert grips the desk behind him, fingers digging into the wood. “You don't- for the love of God, you don't have to-” 

“Oh, but I want to.” And then Robert's cock is in his mouth, and what a mouth, what a mouth. His tongue is the only thing in the entire world and Robert wants nothing more then to just stay here, frozen for all eternity. And he's staring again, Jonah is, the same hungry way he stares in the dreams. In his visions of that all too elusive balcony. “I wanted to at the party, at your office, at that filthy decrepit excuse of a restaurant.” 

“Oh-” It's a moan that escapes him now, an even louder one follows when Jonah is back to licking the head of his cock, swirling his tongue around like it's a sweet. “Jonah-” 

“I was wondering, how long it would take for you to realize I wanted you too. If you were bold enough to shove me onto my knees there and then, make all of them stare, make all of them watch while I sucked your cock.” The possibility seemed to far removed at the time. “But now, you've given me such a phenomenal gift, I forgive you entirely for the wait.” 

“Jonah- Jonah-” The only word on his tongue now is this man's name. Have there ever been any other words? Has all of the English language been created just so he could utter Jonah's name with enough reverence in this singular moment? 

“A genius, ahead of his time.” He places a kiss on it, as if that's something one does, and then takes all of Robert into his mouth. All of him truly, until Robert feels what must be the velvet skin of the back of his throat. He bobs his head back, until his face is brushed up against his pant leg. One of Jonah's hands grips his thigh, hard enough to bruise. 

“Jo-Jonah-” Robert gasps for air, one of his own hands leaning down to run it through Jonah's dark hair. Jonah pulls off for but a moment.

“Grip it. Harder, yes just like that.” And then he's back, sliding the entire length of his cock along his mouth and into his throat. That wet heat is everything, his entire being, all and all and all of him. “I'm not breakable, pull like you- ah!- that's it- that's it-” 

“Is- Is it truly alright?” He is pulling rather had- but all he gets is a nod and a hum, and oh, he feels the vibrations all the way up his spine. It makes his toes curl in his boots. It makes him grip Jonah's hair hair. 

Jonah does- does something with his tongue just at the very head and it makes his toes curl again, his eyes fluttering shut and another long sigh escaping his mouth. His thigh is slapped and his eyes fly open- Jonah smirking up at him through his long lashes. 

Alright, so he'll just keep his eyes open then- all the better- certainly all the better with how red Jonah's lips are getting, with his eyes watering just a smidge. He feels like he's about to spill over- from the tightness in his belly and the way his hips start to jerk to meet him, he must be. 

When he does spill, and he does rather quickly after the thought, it's right against the back of Jonah's throat. Jonah grips his other thigh, breathes through his nose and swallows every drop, before pulling off of him with a satisfied grin on his face, a hand wiping at the saliva on his chin. 

Again, the desire to rush home, to grab paints he doesn't own and spread them on a canvas are so strong- to commemorate this moment, every moment they've had together- is so strong he barely knows what to do with himself. 

“Will you take me in hand?” Jonah's risen at some point, mouth close his ear. A quick glance down confirms the warm bulge grinding against Robert's thigh all to inviting to neglect. He fumbles the buttons with significantly less grace then Jonah had his own, but Jonah is patient, hips jutting forward every now and then in impatience. Finally, he gets him free. “Lick your hand first.” 

Robert does as he's told, and for a singular moment there may be a part of him struggling with the revelation that he is about to touch another man's cock, but it's a quiet part, and the moment is gone quickly. 

He is so warm, and heavy in his palm, head already dripping- the thought that he had gotten aroused from sucking Robert's cock- that Jonah- Jonah- his Jonah would have gotten hard from something like that makes him feel as if he's been set ablaze.

“Jonah-” 

“As you would yourself-” And he does, stroking him as if his life depended on it. Jonah's arms are over his shoulders, his palms on the back of his neck. He's panting- he's making Jonah pant, gasp, jerk his hips into his grasp- he feels dizzy, but he doesn't dare close his eyes. Jonah- Jonah likes being watched, then so be it. It's all he can do in the moment, especially when his hand still for but a second and Jonah whines right in his ear. 

“Jonah-” 

“I-I'm loathe to beg- b-but if you want that of me-” He gasps, hips jolting forward again. “Then please, please, please, Robert-” 

“Jonah-” 

“Please-” 

Robert grasps him a little tighter, and stares down at the red of his cock and Jonah moans in his ear, fucking his hand until his climax, a sharp and punched thing, ends in a groan, resting his head on Robert's shoulder. 

“Are- Are you alright?” 

“I'm phenomenal. Just- catching my breath.” 

Once they are presentable and clean again, Jonah stares out the windows with a smile on his face. His lips still a little red, stained with his effort. 

“That was-” 

“Mordechai is throwing another little get-together, this coming Friday.” Jonah glances at him. “Mayhap this time you'll stay long enough to allow me the pleasure of showing you the view from the balcony.” 

Robert- 

A lot of things go through his mind all at once, nervous and jittery and oddly calm at the same time. How did he know, did he know or was that just an assumed spot for these sorts of things, had he knows the whole time before even Robert himself knew, had he some how orchestrated this entire thing, did his friends know, is that what the teasing about, was he being serious while he was on his knees, why did he know so little when Jonah seemed to know so much? 

“I would love to.” 

**Author's Note:**

> leitner: wow what did knowledge of the entire universe cost you  
smirke: a jail and a handy
> 
> comments are always very appreciated
> 
> find me on[ tumblr ](http://iamalivenow.tumblr.com/) and [ twitter](https://twitter.com/licotain)


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